


ben hanscom, new-maj on the block

by beithong



Series: hogwarts au. click here for fart jokes with plot [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: AGAIN i'm not trying to write good stuff this is just me talking to myself love you!!!!!, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21774352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beithong/pseuds/beithong
Summary: Eddie's grinning at Richie, who’s breathing hot air on the other side of the glass as if he’s going to create an urgent appeal for help through crude finger art: “This compartment’s closed."Pound-pound-pound, hot breath.“My ma said.”Instead of tracing art, Richie licks a straight stripe through his breath cloud as Eddie gags. “That’s not what she told me last NIGHT. Open—the—fucking—” he takes out his wand and points at the door handles, shouts“Sodoku!”, then slams his body onto the doors.Ben side-eyes the window for any sign of parents.-or: A Collection of Really Written-Out Hogwarts Headcanons, Mostly Ben POV, Self-Explanatory Chapter Titles, Chuss No Full-on Stary Am Ver Busy Deyah's Too Mayni Wyurds
Relationships: Ben Hanscom & The Losers Club
Series: hogwarts au. click here for fart jokes with plot [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589005
Comments: 13
Kudos: 11





	1. ben hanscom, first day, excerpt one

**_The Ben Hanscom, New-Maj on the Block_ Selections** all began when Ben no-middle-name Hanscom blinked open his eyelids to see a face, already there, and… beaming down at him. Ben had blushed immediately, raising a hand up to bashfully curl a finger around the short strands of hair sitting on the sides of his dopily smiling face. 

Almost as if in slow motion, golden rays illuminated and melted from behind the form above, that made distinct _bloop!_ sounds when they fell, and they erupted into a chorus of angels when they splashed on his cheek, like it was…he imagined it was like the next coming of Jesus…just for him. Ben couldn’t feel anything, so he managed some lazy giggles and started to think about…

_Yeah..._

( _Here come the harp strings, Ben,_ said a very suave, suave Danny in his head, but instead of harps, he was accompanied with a sexy saxophone, which only got more confusing when more unfit instruments would join in, intruding, until Ben had to separate them all and select solely the trumpets he was hearing, directly behind the gong that kept slamming mercilessly. _Remember, this is your most important recital._ )

_Cheerios...,_ Ben's conscience concluded sensuously. 

_Sure...,_ allowed back Danny from New Kids in an equally breathy voice.

 _“Wheeen the sun breaks out, lift up your heeead and shout,”_ he sings, or croaks, like it’s Saturday morning and he’s sitting on the TV couch with his mom before she leaves for work, _“It’s gawna-bee a great daaaay...”_ Ben politely carries the endnote until the maestro looking down above him graciously lifts his hand in a cut-off. 

_Not too bad,_ Ben thinks, _I should probably work a little more on my air support, because I can’t breathe, but—_ he shrugs, before the hand that was in the air just a second ago surges down to collide with his nose.

Everything goes white again, less golden, and instead of angels this time, it’s more like someone pressing down on the highest key of an underwater synthesizer right next to his ear and Ben doesn’t want to seem rude but way too much of the golden rays are seeping into his nose and ears and mouth and he thinks he might throw up pretty soon. 

_(It’s not faar away!)_

“Next thing I’m gonna do is cut off those fucking _tits_ , Tits. Fucking, fake,” spits mullet-Jesus-conductor, “Might wanna use some of that magic you suddenly got, try to fucking stop me, huh? I fucking DARE YOU! _SHUT UP!_ ” he screams to someone to his side, “I’ll fucking remind him where he _fucking belongs!_ ” There’s a searing pain on Ben’s abdomen, then, and his eyes begin to prick with tears. “Where’s that fucking magic, huh? Where’s that fucking magic you say you got—I’m doing you a favor…huh. I’ll bring your lying ass down with the rest of us before anyone else finds out, you—”

_(Kellogg’s will heeelp)_

“—FUCKING—"

_(You saaay!)_

Ben squeezes shut his eyes and lets out a blood-curling cry before the sounds of metal dropping to the ground and scuttering feet and voices replace it.

Our Ben Hanscom, New-Maj on the Block Selections begin when Ben Hanscom blinks open his eyes once more to an inflating squib named Bowers, floating up, up, up, until he eclipses the sun and rolls backwards with wide eyes like a balloon. Ben lets his body carry him for him, doesn’t remember if he grabs his suitcases or not but hears the preppy commercial trumpets accompany him as he scurries into the train station, in through a wall, and immediately into the sliding doors of the Hogwarts Express.

_(Oh yes! It’s gawna-bee a great daaaaay! Badum-bum-BUM!)_

***

The sight of a large rear-end greets Ben when he turns into the otherwise fairly empty compartment; small arms behind it are hastily cleaning and speaking in a falsely honeyed and hushed tone. Without his permission, Ben's imagination starts to picture a T-Rex in a big, flowery dress babying over the small kid too scared to voice that he could be wrong but he _really thinks she's maybe might've got the wrong son._

“…And if one medical hazard is treated without my knowing, I don’t care if that Maturin freak threatens me with, with, with turning me into a PIG, you are coming straight home with this pig and going to the nice elementary school by your aunt Nayvie’s house, you understand?”

“Yes mommy.“

“And remember what compartment this is for Christmas break, compartment number seven on the right. You send me a letter every week.”

“Yes mommy—”

She puts multiple kisses on the boy’s forehead, the kissy noises reaching a frequency that could kill Ben’s dog. The mother turns around, sniffing. Mascara is comically running down her already tear-stained cheeks when she sees Ben, beaten up, and she shrieks in defense. 

“This compartment’s closed!” she exclaims and closes the sliding doors behind her. 

“Ok.” Ben catches the boy’s eye and his widens, at Ben’s state, probably. The mother blows her nose and the conductor could be heard; Ben turns and watches him, saying, “Ma'am, ma'am if we could just remain outside the trai—”

“Oh I know,“ she interrupts gruffly before stuffing the tissue into her dress pocket and stomping out, shaking the whole compartment with her.

Ben continues walking and peering before a light something touches his back. He turns again, and it’s the boy from the “closed” compartment with light red kiss marks inhabiting his forehead, looking at Ben with big eyes like a… little cowlicked squirrel caught in headlights. 

“I have a bunch of ice packs and antiseptic wipes in my first aid kit I could patch you up,” he says in one breath, his eyes darting left for a split second in awkwardness. 

“Yes, please” replies Ben and he also darts his eyes awkwardly before they both shuffle in unison back to the compartment. 

A tall boy comes in after a little while with a sleek, dark green suitcase that had the most elegant embroidery Ben’s ever seen, with green and gold snakes sometimes actually slithering all over it— wait that was so cool. It looked like it was made of steel but then it teetle-twirled and did a lil' oop-loop-di-loop-doop all… Ben takes a second to consider if he has a concussion.

He's so fascinated right now, though. He wants to move in closer to see just how this magic worked, but he can't right now because it smells like really really dirty socks. 

“Hey, Billy” says Eddie, working down on Ben’s body and currently trying to test out a waning spell on his knees. 

“Whi-w-woah,” Billy says when he looks at Ben. The toad in his hand jumps onto Ben's shoulder.

“I know, right?” Eddie says, almost like he’s excited. “My mom was in here disinfecting the compartment and kid tries to come in looking like someone’s killed him.”

As soon as Eddie’s finished, the three of them sit in a little bit of an awkward silence, not really knowing where to start. Eddie starts talking a little bit about his mom, complaining, but then disregarding the complaints as soon as he says something a little more than mild. Most of it goes like this: Bill tries asking Ben a little bit about himself while Eddie gets a little impatient with the stutter and tries to finish his sentences for him, and he’s usually wrong and tries to justify why he thought Bill was trying to ask where Ben, an 11-year-old aboard the same train as them, was traveling to.

Their voices begin rising a little until the top of a head at the window suddenly makes an obnoxious fart noise, another one says "ugh", and everyone in the compartment jumps with a delay. Ben peers and sees a big-eyed boy hopelessly adjusting broken glasses on his squinty face.

“Oh, fuckin’ A, Stanley. Couldn't remember one frickin' wall right— _now_ look at the boy!” he points at the kiss stains on Eddie’s forehead and Eddie’s whole head reacts like a doe who just heard a noise in an empty forest. “He’s already gotten more action than both of us!”

Next to him, Squinty Boy is met with a tired sigh and large roll of the taller boy’s eyes, but the smirk on Stanley’s face when he catches Eddie’s eye could tell you right away that he knew exactly which wall you needed to run through to get to the station, and that the cracked-in-two glasses and purple forehead bump he wore today were well deserved.

Eddie’s _personality_ takes a complete 180 when he sprints and whips the top half of his body out the window and almost falls out—Bill grabbing his foot easily. Eddie grabs Squinty’s glasses off his face against Squinty’s will.

“Hey Stanley,” he calls, putting three bandaids over the bridge of the glasses. Stanley looks at him as he mouths ’run,’ and while Stanley slowly skirts and then books for it into the train, Eddie makes sure the bandaid can hold the glasses securely. “Hold on, dude—Stan. Stan, shut up—” he tells Squinty’s hands, “Stan, stanstanstanstanstan… HOW many years has Richie been sending his sister off to this fuckin’ school already?”

The compartment shuts closed behind them. “Four? Four years, I think, of more experience than all of us combined,” pants Stan at the door and Richie blindly snatches his glasses back. They miraculously stay put even when he jabs them back on and finds Stanley, in the compartment, back to standing like an old man.

Richie’s face seems to impossibly squint even more than before, and Eddie's already gotten distracted by the rest of the train station, and Ben shakes Stanley’s offered hand, which is quickly interrupted when Eddie suddenly _catapults_ himself over Ben’s feet to charge for the doors and hold them both shut. Stan sighs and turns to extend his hand out for Bill to also shake. 

"Sir," he says, and Bill snorts. Stan then turns back around to the toad on Ben's shoulder. He extends his hand and the to—oh. Wow. The toad reaches up and shakes his hand. It was in such a way that Ben almost expected it to happily yell _Stanley, you sonuvabitch!_ in that croaky-deep voice and he starts giggling. 

"Sir," Stan repeats, though, smiling and letting a little huff go through his nostrils when he looks at Ben.

Three loud pounds to their side makes everyone in the compartment jump a second time, and Stan _groans._

Eddie’s grinning at Richie, who’s breathing hot air on the other side of the glass as if he’s going to create an urgent appeal for help through crude finger art: “This compartment’s closed." _Pound-pound-pound, hot breath._ “My ma said.”

Instead of tracing art, Richie licks a straight stripe through his breath cloud as Eddie gags. “That’s not what she told me last NIGHT. Open—the—fucking—” he takes out his wand and points at the door handles, shouts _“Sodoku!”_ , then slams his body onto the doors.

(Ben notes that their window is virtually parentless so far. This is because it’s more convenient for the publisher of this story and she doesn’t have to think so much. Maybe Ben asks about it.)

“Where are yours?” Stan swiftly asks back.

 _“Meningitis–!”_ Richie goes again, laughing, followed by Eddie’s delighted _shhRIEK._

All three boys cringe at the noise.

“Actually um, my mom couldn’t come through the wall,” Ben smiles politely, rubbing at his knees, then regretting it.

“So you’re muggle-born.”

“No I’m from Derry.”

“What happened to you?” says Richie, finally being ushered in by an angry conductor. “Did Stan send you into the wrong walls too?”


	2. sorting and fart noise-ing and plot introductions, oh my

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for sorting the losers into houses

“Wait, how do we.” Richie has already inserted himself into a medium-sized crowd of fellow first years with a confidence Ben truly admired. No one appears to have heard him start his sentence, so he brings the back of his hand up to his mouth and makes a deafening fart sound. Like the one outside the train. Like the one he did when he tried to make a weird suggestive joke about his new, high-model broom (“Double action. Right, Eddie?” “What, what does that even mean.” “No, like you know how like the brooms at Freese’s, they’ll be like, ooh...double a—” “Yeah ok so what. What does that mean, then. Are you using this on a woman?” “Fuck you I’m using it on a woman. You don’t even know normal sex, try getting you to understand how to use this fuckin’—” “Explain it to me. Explain it to me, captain sex, is your dick broken? Is your—” _BLFFFFFPH_. Ben’s eyes were wide.) All eyes were wide this time around too, and totally fixed on possibly killing Richie. 

So how do you all not already know where we’re getting in?” Richie continues towards the rest of the crowd like nothing happened. “The sorting’s way too self…explainey.”

“What house am I going in?” asks a girl close to him with frizzy hair and a contagiously entertained smile.

Richie seems to get thrown for a second by someone not seemingly on the verge of assaulting him, but quickly covers up by shutting his eyes and patting his hand on his temple.

“Uhhh, Slytherin. For sure. Terrifying.” 

The girl giggles again, and Richie continues, pointing at another kid. 

“Hufflepuff…” he points at some more, “Hufflepuff...Hufflepuff...Hufflepuff,” he points at the burliest of all of them, “...Hufflepuff—” 

“Oh, c’mon!” yelps a kid and then they’re all making noise.

“ _Gryffindor!!_ ” reassures Richie loudly to a kid with hair that looks like a tsunami. “This one’s a Gryffindor…” 

“Foreheadicus,” he points to a kid with a— _oh no_.

“Snifflyhuff.” Big nose. “Rumpleforeskin.” _Dude._ “Pimpleypus—” 

“Oh, what house are you getting into, GENIUS!” yells a kid Ben can’t even see from the ends of this crowd with such a growling ferocity of _YEAH I wanna know what you have to say about this but I’m mad about it!!_ that Ben has to whip his hand up to squeeze his nose to stop from giggling. 

Richie pokes up his glasses, “Oh, Slytherin for sure, maybe Beavertrap.”

“Beavertrap?” Ben smiles.

“You didn’t know there was a Beavertrap house? Ohh,” Richie sighs loudly and puts his hand on his forehead, “Bill told you about Doodoopiss at least, right?”

The crowd groans as a unit and migrates three inches to the left. 

“Ignore him,” says Eddie, who puts his hand on Ben’s shoulder as if he needs support for all the anxiety he’s had to endure watching Richie almost get jumped. “He thinks he’s funny,” he supplies, eyeing the crowd and skirting in front of Richie in a sort of protectiveness. 

“Gymkata,” Richie flicks his wand at Eddie’s wincing head, then proceeds to body-slam him to the ground.

The big doors open, and the children are gathered in front of the dining hall and given an extensive set of rules by the school’s caretaker, Mr. Ahoy sis .. uh. Nell. He remembered ‘Nell’, at least. He also remembered his noteworthy Irish accent, that said things like _you_ are _allowed into the forbidden forest just ignore the name_ and _if you run into a unicorn you have to fight it for dominance by comparing dicks_ , or at least according to Richie’s rundown for Ben when the both of them, who had stood the farthest back, could barely pay any attention.

(The top half of a small, see-through girl had materialized out of the Gryffindor table and floated down swiftly, carrying what looked like one of her legs in her arms like a… like how a small girl like her would carry around a teddy bear. 

“Have you seen my shoe?” she’d ask Gryffindors who’d seemed all too familiar to her; instead of answering they’d spread wide open grins and wave their hands out to let her passing form tingle their fingers.

“Aw, Betty…” had whined a young boy who’s chewy strings and chocolate frogs had boiled and rotted when the ripped-off ends of her robes had passed through them. 

On the other table to his left, another small ghost—a boy this time, in 60’s kid garb—was stumbling across the Ravenclaw table, gleefully chasing a rambunctious older ghost-man until, of course, his head fell off and bounced onto the floor next to Ben and Richie. Ben sucked in a breath and Richie tried to kick it before the kid’s head started wheezing like Eddie.

“Ignore ‘imself!” Nell called to everyone who had now whipped their attention to the wheezing head of a tiny ghost boy.

“Git yer damn noggin out av dare, ye right Edless Corc-screw.” 

The boy’s head then fell into maniacal giggles, rolling towards Ben with rapid speed, and Ben stumbled back until the head could pass through his feet. He turned to see Betty watch the boy’s head go, and Ben...Ben could have sworn he saw a real tear come out her eye when she stared, eyes wide at one of the new teachers seated at the long table. Someone Ben would soon be introduced to as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, a Hogwarts graduate of ‘65 by the name of Robert Gray, who stared right on back. 

Nell was yelling at all of the ghosts, he could hear. He could hear some swearing about waiting until after de rules or something, but he could also hear...trumpets again, the longer he stared at this small ghost girl. He couldn’t tell if it was because of his really vivid imagination and also _blows to his head_ earlier that day, but this felt different. A faraway sound of tubas and trumpets and preppy organs and in her eyes there seemed to be flashing lights as bright as dancing fire and wow. 

_Wow, Ben really needed to get his head checked._

Betty sniffed, and her nose was pulled upwards as if being carried by a string, and while she floated up into the ceiling and Ben finally looked back at an already nonchalant Richie, his chest was heaving so hard Richie had to grab his shoulders. 

“Easy, Eddie. Easy,” Richie soothed, lightly slapping Ben’s cheeks. “Hey. Hey. You think _you’re_ freaked out right now—just think about how Leggy feels up there,” he put an arm around Ben and looked up, “havin’ to float around with only one frickin’ shoe!”

Ben’s breathing fixed immediately when he fixed Richie with a reproving look, and Richie, previously grinning, fixed his glasses that didn’t need fixing. He cleared his throat.

“Uh, so here’s basically what Nell said so far—”)

_“GRYFFINDOR!”_ bellows the hat above the frizzy-haired girl who had humored Richie behind the doors--Patricia was her name. Richie had held out his open hand to her on her way to her table, saying _See that’s what I said._ And Patricia took his blaring lie with a wide grin and said _That_ is _what you said!_ And cupped her hand to give his a high-five. 

“Well-iem.. Denbruh” is the first of Ben’s train-friend-group to be sorted. Of a noble Slytherin generation household who carries that more stoic, natural magnetism about him that seemed to trump the stutter and chronic sad-face anywhere he went, everyone is ever so surprised when the sorting hat laughs a little atop Bill’s head and yells, “ _GRYFFINDOR_.” The hat is taken off his head to showcase him already wide-eyeing Richie with his chin all the way down as a sort of _’uh oh.’_ Bill’s gaze has to very slowly twist towards the roaring Gryffindors, who seem to take great joy in welcoming the first-ever not-Slytherin to come out of _his_ family.

_RAVENCLAW_ , shouts the hat on top of a Michael, who had spent almost a hat stall amount of time, it seemed, just having a pleasant, casual conversation with the hat.

Whispers had been erupting during his entire process, lots of talk of his famous Auror parents, and in turn, a famous Michael. Ben…actually feels that they might have even had their own chapter in _Hogwarts, a History_ , now that he thinks about it.

When sorted, Michael whispers a last few congenial words into the hat before moving past Ben and whispering a quiet, “Good luck,” to the redheaded girl he’d been standing with — who had previously been the only kid wandering alone, Ben remembers. She stands her ground but her gaze looks almost like she might like to just follow him to his house and forget the sorting altogether. Michael could be a new soon friend, he thinks. He feels like he knows where he’s going. His name is called immediately after.

_You’d do great things in Ravenclaw. You’ve a mind of such intense intellectual ability; there you could be really challenged. Leveraged, to quite an immeasurable feat_ , says the hat, and Ben twiddles his feet.  


“Ok,” he replies politely. To be honest he doesn’t really like, care too much.  


_Ahh, but…_ the sorting hat continues as if Ben hadn’t said anything. It hums and then spends the rest of the time humming to himself, no other words spoken to Ben, before it shouts _HUFFLEPUFF_.  


And Ben Has to pause for like, a second, cause today has just been really good on throwing him off his game a little bit so far. He recovers pretty quickly, he thinks, probably. He smiles at Eddie’s smile and shaky thumbs-up, and makes his way to his table.

Eddie’s the next of his group, small and wheezing so loudly it carries out all throughout the hall. When he lowers himself onto the seat a single wheeze travels through one of the chimneys. “Don’t git ahead av yerself, fella,” whispers the Irish man to Eddie, laughing a little, “Oi don't nade ter draink me night's tea for another two 'ours so.” Eddie sinks lower into his seat bashfully. 

Before the hat is even able to fully touch the top of Eddie’s head it’s shouting “ _GRYFFINDOR_.” There’s the tiniest of pauses, Ben notices the Hufflepuff’s setting their hands down in an expectant clap, before the Gryffindor table goes crazy. Eddie’s eyes are wide and he’s looking back at the hat like it just offended his mother and the Irish man ushers him out.

(The redheaded girl, Marsh, creates quite a show — or more like the opposite of one. She’s the first one that day to actually be placed in Slytherin, and many of them don’t seem too…happy about it. Slytherin does erupt into claps but less so…her eyes find Michael’s again and he’s nodding encouragingly.

What was the big deal? Ben lets out a loud _whoo!_ and claps even louder until it gets really awkward and the next kid is called.)

Next of their group is Tozier— also born out of a whole generation of Slytherins (until his muggle Dad, he says) but Ben’s kinda used to everything going the polar opposite — like he _said_ he was going into Slytherin but has got to be way too brash and loud. Not a bad thing! Not a bad thing, but.

So when the dingy hat shouts “ _HUFFLEPUFF_ ” instead of even Gryffindor? And Richie himself even goes, “Wait, _WHAT?_ ” Ben has given up.

Stan is the last one, and Ben’s first initial thought is Slytherin, but his mind goes well surely in this world I now live in he’s a Hufflepuff then, but then knows not to trust even his second thought, so he rolls with Ravenclaw and decides forget all of that, I’m gonna discover that the hat can come up with a whole new house, and that’s how Doodoopiss becomes the fifth official house of Hogwarts.

Ben at least is wrong. Stan is sorted into Ravenclaw, and with a blank expression, Stan politely rolls off and lets his feet drag his stick-straight body over to the Ravenclaw table.

“Welcome… to another year… at Hogwarts…” drawls the infamously slow voice of the truly bizarre Professor Maturin, and two tables away, Eddie Kaspbrak’s forehead could be heard falling onto the tabletop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so ben and eddie spend their first night at hogwarts together in the hospital for head injuries:) 
> 
> basically wrote this all out last night because either i'm completely invested in solely drawing, or writing, or reading, or learning everything about about urticaria pigmentosa at 2:35 in the morning and then laughing at how richie would use that as a fake spell, or i am dead. just finished my christmas drawing gifts and have to start on commisionsSO now my racy brain wants to continue this harry potter au. also i got a sweet anon last night and that .... well that... hg.. m i 
> 
> thanks to anyone who's reading!! sorry this took so long to get like 2 words out this body, i swear it's just cause i was watching NTBTS deleted scenes and was like who would call who captain sex in my au. oh shit i started an au.
> 
> come to my tumblr and ask me for shit cause this rat actually has some plot, but she ain't writing a full fledged out story. tell me what u want. let's figure this out together. @deadfruity (IMAGINE a misfits au. i just might)

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know what this is either man I'm just waiting for mia wallace
> 
> i'll be adding shit along as i go! i don't know!


End file.
